


Stupid Violin! (Klance)

by MagiRabe



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: 7th grade, College AU, M/M, Middle School AU, Modern AU, hunk has the bassoon, keith is a violinist, keith is an orphan, lance plays the trumpet, pidge has the trumpet, reunion after years of not seeing eachother
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-21
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-18 23:22:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9407435
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MagiRabe/pseuds/MagiRabe
Summary: “Hey Keith?”“Yeah?”“Do you want to come with me?”





	1. An Apology and a Thank-you

  
  


Lance groaned. The violin wailed, sounding like a screeching cat. Why did he have the room closest to the alley between him and his neighbor’s house? Why did the stupid new kid have to live there? Why did he have to practice violin in his backyard?

“ _ At least he sucks at something…”  _ Lance glared at his window, thinking of how the stupid new kid with his stupid fingerless gloves could do everything he couldn’t and more. Lance turned back to his  _ Sailor Moon  _ manga, when another long wail drifted through his walls. Lance groaned. It would be nice if Keith sucked at something that didn’t ruin Lance’s reading. 

The violin kept on squealing, sharp and painful and almost to the tune of ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star”. Mid-note the song stopped, and then… the terrifying opening notes. Again. 

Lance groaned, and closed his manga. 

Then he thought of how Nyma, the gorgeous 8th-grader who had smiled at Keith. He thought about how Keith drooped in his seat in science, eyes lidded, doodling, and yet answered every question correctly. Lance remembered how every time the teacher praised him, Keith smiled a little. 

_ “Smug bastard…”  _ Lance thought, feeling edgy for thinking such a bad word,  _ “I’m going to teach him a lesson.” _

Lance swaggered over to where his trumpet lay in it’s case. He pulled to out, opened the window, and started to play. From memory, of course. The notes rang loud and clear and bright, without mistake. The violin music stopped. 

Then, there was a clear note from the violin, but soon it halted to a screeching stop. There was a pause, and the first three notes came, slightly garbled. Lance huffed. Leave it to the new kid to improve so quickly. No matter, Lance was still obviously better. 

The violin ploughed on, and Lance listened, frowning as the notes became clearer and clearer. 

“ _ Still sucky, though,”  _ Lance looked away. Once the song was through, he picked up his trumpet and grinned evilly. 

He’d been practicing ‘Blackbird’ for his Dad, and readied his sheet music. The music flowed clearly from his trumpet, and even though Lance didn’t hit all the notes correctly, it was much better than anything Keith could do.

There was a long pause before the beginning of ‘Old McDonald’ tripped through the air. Lance snickered. Keith really was a beginner. This was even worse than the last one.

As the song wore on, a small voice at the back of Lance’s mind wondered if he should really be doing this. Lance remembered how awful Pidge was when she started, and how Lance found her crying behind the school one afternoon. He’d told her that being bad was ok. 

The violin’s screeching stopped abruptly. 

He remembered how horrible he’d sounded in the beginning, and how jealous he’d been of his brother’s skills. 

Lance pulled the curtains further back, and looked out the window, at Keith, who stood with his legs wide, close to the chain-link fence of his backyard. His eyes were piercing and angry, and his violin was clenched in one hand, bow in the other. Lance gulped. He hadn’t really looked at Keith to see what he’d been feeling about all this. 

The sound of the violin wasn’t a song after that, it was pure screeching. Lance bit his lip. He’d gone too far. Keith’s eyes bored into Lance’s as he dragged the bow across the strings with way too much force. 

Lance looked around nervously. Then, he launched himself out his window and ran across the alley, hoping Keith would hear him out.

The screeching stopped, and Lance poked his hands into the holes of the chain-link fence.

“What?” Keith spat, voice poison. 

“Hey.”

“Hey,” the way he said it made it sound like a curse word, not a greeting.

Lance licked his lips and gulped, “I, uh, maybe shouldn’t have done that.”

Keith’s eyes opened for a second, wide and surprised, but then, “Damn right, Lance.”

Lance felt a little happy that Keith knew his name. He mentally shook his head. 

“I’m sorry. You’re new, apparently new to the violin, and that’s not wrong.”

Keith looked away, movements abrupt. 

Lance sucked in a breath that stung his teeth with cold, “I know how hard it is to learn an instrument, and you’re really good at… stuff, so I guess I just wanted to show off.”

Keith nodded curtly.

“Look, I’m really sorry, man. I made a mistake. I’m apologizing.”

Keith turned to Lance, and shrugged, “Ok.”

“Ok?”

“Yeah-ok. It’s ok.”

Lance shrugged back, and then just stood, watching Keith. Keith grew fidgety, and looked away quickly. 

“Well, see you at school, then...” Lance said, backing away awkwardly. He waved a little before turning and running to the window. Before he climbed through it, he turned back to see Keith with a strange expression on his face. Keith waved and turned away, going back inside.

_ “Maybe he’s not that bad…”  _ Lance thought. 

 

That school year, Lance and Keith became best friends. Not better than he and Hunk, but up there., and Pidge helped Keith with the violin. It turned out that Keith was so bad because he’d just started. They learned he was an orphan and his foster parents told him he had to learn a musical instrument, because they were musicians. 

“It’s so stupid! I’m not even their kid,” Keith had said, an empty popcorn bowl on his lap, “I’ve always taken Art, and I’m way better at that.”

They’d been having another weekend sleepover at Hunk’s (he had the best snacks and movies) when they found out, not only about the violin, but about Keith’s not having parents. Keith said he was fine, and he seemed it, so it didn’t come up after that. 

 

Now, Lance wishes it had. Because Keith moved away the next year, with a tired expression on his face, like this—letting go—had been normal. 

 

And there was the night before Keith left. 

 

-0-

 

The gravel crunched underneath his feet as he crept up to Lance’s window. Lance started in his bed when he saw the figure coming closer.

“Keith?”

“Hey.”

“What are you doing here?”

Keith shrugged and smiled softly, leaning into the window. Lance’s reading light touched Keith’s face, highlighting his dark eyes. Lance put down  _ Ranma ½ _ and sat up in bed. 

“I guess I just wanted to say thank you,” Keith said, eyes dipping down to the window sill. 

Lance frowned, “For what? I mean, I know that all who are lucky enough to be my friend are basically blessed, but…”

“Well, if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have any friends.”

“Right,” Lance rolled his eyes, “You’re so popular it hurts to watch.”

Keith shook his head, “But I’m not very good with people. You made it easier, despite everything.”

Lance huffed, “‘Despite everything’? Wow, rude. But, uh, thanks.”

He looked at Keith, the familiar curve of his eyes, the shape of his mouth, how his hair fell into his face…

“ _ Stupid emo best friend,”  _ thought Lance. 

Lance remembered watching Keith draw, remembered partnering up in gym, remembered how Keith shook with laughter at Lance’s mistakes, and how he didn’t even get mad.

That would be gone. Tomorrow, there would be no Keith throwing sarcastic comments Lance’s way, there would be no Keith explaining confusing science lessons, no Keith twirling his pencil at lightning speed. No Keith to fawn over the stars with, no Keith eating his mom’s sopapillas and Hunk’s chocolate chip cookies. There would be no more Pidge-and-Keith violin duets, with Keith frowning when he made a mistake and smiling when Pidge messed up. Lance licked his lips and swallowed, his eyes starting to get wet.

“I’m gonna miss you, Keith,” his voice cracked, “I’m gonna miss you so bad.”

Keith’s mouth opened in surprise. When Keith told them about going to  _ another  _ foster home about a week ago, Lance had played it cool. But it was  _ so  _ not cool.

“I’m gonna miss you, and your horrible violin, and your stupid emo fringe.”

Keith shook his head, “Even when you miss me, you’re rude.”

The tears were hot on his cheeks, and his shoulders shook, “Yeah, well, live with it.”

Keith smiled fondly, and Lance’s heart tripped. 

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” he traced a design on the window sill, and Lance saw his eyes were wet, too. 

Lance watched him, and leaned forward. With the window sill digging into him, he wrapped his arms around Keith, and was astounded by how soft he was. Keith dug his face in Lance’s shoulder, and Lance had the urge to never let go. 

“You’re a great friend, Lance,” Keith mumbled, and then pulled away, frowning sadly. He waved a little, Lance waved a little, and Keith crept away, never to be seen again.

Lance collapsed into the him-shaped hole in the mattress, pulled the covers over his head, and cried until he slept.


	2. Roommates, Mochis, and Trouble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance is grown up (mostly), and does not expect his roommate to be as hot as he is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will probably not update this fic. It's been a long time, and a lot has changed for me since I published this.

Lance smiles and drops his bags. The light filters softly through the thin dorm curtains, and the tiny square contains two beds, a heater, and shelving.  His roommate,‘Keith Takashi’ isn’t there yet, so Lance gets to pick the best side.

Lance sits down on his bed and wonders who this Keith guy is. He pulls a Voltron figure from his bag, and thinks it’s weird that his roommate has the name of his idol and his 7th grade best friend. 

Takashi Shirogane… It would be so cool to meet Shiro. He was an astronaut, but retired after his arm was destroyed in a car crash. He has a robot arm, making him at least 100% cooler. Now, he travels around the world and helps people who’ve lost their limbs or have PTSD. He’s also published the best book series on the planet,  _ ‘Kazuo vs the Universe’ _ , about a cyborg in the future that fights in an intergalactic war. Shiro’s just so awesome, he defies definition. Hot, too. 

Lance has no idea what happened to Keith. That still makes him sad. Even now, he can hear his Mom saying,  _ “It’s so strange without Keith around, isn’t it?”  _ No kidding. Pidge’s lone violin sounded wrong for the rest of the year. 

“Whatever,” Lance shrugs, trying to be nonchalant, and adjusts his Sailor Moon figurine.

The door hushes over the carpet, and Lance looks back. He steps off of his bed, and takes stock of the stranger.

His eyes are dark against smooth, pale skin, looking from between long lashes and even longer hair. His face is expressionless, rose-tinted lips curving subtly down. Lance follows their slant to a strong jaw and then a long, white neck. His outfit is a plain black shirt under a red plaid jacket, with bracelets crowding muscular forearms. He hides his hands in rumpled black jeans. 

Basically, he’s hot as fuck.

Lance smiles, “You’re my roommate?”

Mr. Sexy McBeautiful nods and moves to the other bed. Not much of a talker, then. Lance hears the  _ whoomp  _ of his bags on his bed. 

“Lance, right?” he says, and Lance looks up and nods. 

“Yeah! And  _ you're _ Keith.” His enthusiasm is explosive and unnecessary. Lance bites the side of his cheek. 

“You memorized that quick,” Keith faces Lance, smiling nervously. A strong wave of deja vu hits him.

“Yes, I did. Which is why you're lucky. I'm the best roommate in the universe.” Lance says. 

Keith furrows his brow and looks confused, but only for a second. Then he smirks (and holy crap is it sexy), “We’ll see about that.”

Lance reels back in pretend offense, “I am wounded! Wounded!”

The confused look returns, and Lance thinks maybe he'll have to dial it down a little.

“It's a joke, man.”

Keith shakes his head, “I know.”

Lance thinks he hears him whisper, “And that's what worries me…”

Keith turns to the side with a slightly distant look. Lance scratches the side of his arm. He’s not making a very good impression. At all. 

“Anyway-oh my god, is that a Mullet?”

“No!”

“Yes, it is!” Lance grins, trying to cover up his slight panic. Not helping McClain!  _ Not helping. _

“Shut up!” Keith smiles when he says it, and Lance feels a little bit warm. The feeling is mysteriously familiar.

“So…” Lance smiles, hoping that this will give him mad roomie points, “You bring food? Because my mother forced enough on me to feed an army.”

Keith’s lips pop open, “What? You’d share?”

Thank god for his Mother and her distrust of college food! “Yes. All who are lucky enough to be my roommate are basically blessed.”

Keith’s eyes are wide in shock, and Lance shoves his tongue painfully against his teeth. He ruined it! That, or Keith is really, really not used to nice people.

Something tickles his memory, and a random phrase pops out of nowhere, _ “I’m not good with people.” _

Lance frowns for a second and then turns to his backpack. He pulls out a bag of cold sopapillas and a few paper towels, because he’s an adult and he can do what he wants, including dessert before dinner. (God, his Mom would kill him) Lance slides to the floor, and Keith follows.

Keith takes one, “No plates?”

“Fuck plates!” Lance smiles.

“Won’t the paper towel stick to the honey?”

Lance shrugs and takes a bite, not knowing what to say to that. Keith watches. Then, he mirrors Lance and smiles.

“Wow,” Keith says, softly, “These are really good.”

Lance smirks and nods, too busy eating to talk. The sweets taste like memories, and Lance closes his eyes, letting a cottony sadness fill him. He’s left his home behind. Sure, he can visit, but it won’t really be his house anymore. He won’t live there, he’ll just come around for holidays. The smaller kids won’t know who he is…

He looks at Keith who’s smiling softly, taking small bites of his sopapilla. Lance remembers another Keith sitting next to him, eating like if he didn’t remember every flavor it would disappear. But that Keith left a long time ago.

“So… you miss your parents?” Lance asks. Why is he still hoping that That Keith will eventually come back? He won’t. It’s been years.

Keith opens his eyes and his face contorts strangely for a second, “Actually, yeah.”

Weird reaction. Anyway, this proves that this isn’t ‘That Keith’. That Keith didn’t have parents. 

Even so, conversation with this Keith flows easily, despite Lance’s unlikeability. They sit there, between their two beds, laughing and talking with the faint window-light shining on their faces. Turns out, Keith is super cute. He has this habit of saying ‘uh’ and he’s blunt as all Hell. Also, he’s hilarious, in a sarcastic, deadpan way. Lance doesn’t think he’s laughed this much in his life. 

They both have friends to see and things to do, but keep putting it off because talking is so addictive. But eventually, the sopapillas are gone, and as they sit there, knees touching, Lance’s phone chimes.

It’s Hunk texting about a cool new place, some combination bookstore-coffeeshop. 

“Aw, Keith… I gotta go.”

“You said the same thing a long time ago.”

Lance starts to get up, “Point. But now I have the proper motivation, so…”

Keith shrugs, and if it isn’t Lance’s imagination, seems disappointed.

An idea hits him. Lance smiles, “Hold on…”

  


_ SirLancelot to probeachhunk: can i bring my roomie?  _

_ probeachhunk: Sure! im bringing mine _

_ SirLancelot: and whos that? _

_ probeachhunk: Pidge! _

_ SirLancelot: OMG ლ(ಠ益ಠლ) _

_ SirLancelot: HUNK!!!!!!! _

_ probeachhunk: (¬‿¬) _

_ SirLancelot: mines keith hes emo af _

_ SirLancelot: nice tho _

_ probaechhunk: Cool! lets hope he likes books and coffee cuz there’s gonna be… a lot. _

_ SirLancelot: ok buddy… see u! _

  


“Hey Keith?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you want to come with me?”

  


——————— 

The restaurant smells sweetly like other people’s memories and black tea. Tables are nestled by windows and in wider places between shelves. Stacks of books wobble on random edges, and bespectacled people huddle in corners with books and drinks. There are a couple of groups that huddle and smile and hum quietly. 

Lance isn’t sure if he should be here. Keith is looking around with a blank expression, and Lance is struck by how cool he looks. His head is cocked, his eyes are lidded defiantly, and he’s slumped enough to give off the air of not caring. His fluffy pitch hair and piercings only accentuate the look.

“ _ What an emo,”  _ Lance thinks, smiling fondly. 

They move between the stacks, looking for Hunk and Pidge. Keith’s dark eyes slide from stack to stack languidly. 

“Lance!” Hunk waves them over, and Pidge looks up from her computer to give a quick smile. 

“Hey!” he walks over and gives both of them a quick hug. He gestures dramatically to Keith, “This is my roommate! Keith, this is Hunk and Pidge.”

They wave from their chairs, and Keith offers a short smile. Lance pulls up a cushy chair. Keith sits next to him, but he seems distant. 

“Isn’t this place great?” Hunk asks, “All the staff are so nice… The food is great, too.”

Lance gasps, “Don’t tell me you already started?”

Hunk shrugs. 

“What I like best is the free wifi,” Pidge says, smirking. 

As Hunk rolls his eyes, Lance takes a look at Keith, who looks like he’s thinking very hard. It’s not a bad look for him. But then again, nothing is. 

“Hey,” Lance nudges Keith, and hopes that he hasn’t interrupted anything too important. 

Keith’s head snaps up, dark eyes wide, “Hm?” 

This was a bad idea. Lance has nothing to say, “W-want to order?”

Keith nods and gives Lance a tentative smile. _ He has dimples,  _ Lance thinks.

Hunk perks up, “Oh! Yeah, let’s do that.”

Pidge sighs and offers Lance and Keith A Look, “Hunk has a crush on one of the waitresses.”

Hunk groans, but Lance perks up, “Oooh! Who is she?”

Hunk shrugs and blushes. 

Keith leans out of his chair to look for her. He quickly stops, when he notices Lance’s gaze. He looks like a kid caught trying to push their sister off the roof (Lance went going through a bird phase). He can sympathize, he’s never sure of his boundaries in a new group. Lance smiles, trying to reassure him. He then joins Keith, searching the place for someone Hunk’s type.

“She’s  _ really  _ tall, broad, and has big eyes,” Pidge offers helpfully.

“Thanks!” Lance says enthusiastically, and wonders if he’s going too far, embarrassing Hunk.

Keith points at one of the waitresses, “There.”

Lance’s eyes widen, “Wow, Hunk, you have good taste.”

She’s not Lance’s type, but she’s curvy and her smile is cute. She looks kind, grinning as she chats with one of the other customers. She glances at the booth, and to Lance’s surprise, Keith waves her over.

“Keith!” Hunk squeaks. Keith shrugs, but he’s smiling. 

Lance gives him a high-five. Hunk groans. 

“Hey, didn’t you want to see your sweetheart?” Lance asks, making a kissy face.  
“Yeah, but now you’ll try and get me together with he-ello!”

Lance turns away from Hunk, and sure enough, there she is. She  _ is  _ really, really tall up close. Wow. Her name tag reads, ‘Shay’.

“Hello. What would you like?”

Hunk smiles shyly, “Um, some more of those almond croissants, please. So pretty… Ah! I mean, they’re  good.”

Shay nods, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, “I think you’d really like our mochi, too. You can have a free sample, if you want.”

Hunk nods, and she smiles, before heading back to the kitchen. She has an extra bounce in her step, Lance notices.

“She likes you,” Pidge says, clicking her computer closed, smug.

Keith nods, and so does Lance. Hunks shakes his head.

“She does!” Lance says.

“I’m a social outcast and I agree,” Keith says, and Lance noticed that he’s fisting and unfisting his hands in his lap. Maybe he’s not as confident as previously thought.

Hunk is skeptical, “Maybe. But the last time you guys said that, it was wrong.”

“That was once!” Lance says conclusively. 

“We’re usually right,” Pidge cups her head in her palms and smiles. 

“It’s kind of obvious,” says Keith.

_ He looks really nice in this light,  _ Lance thinks. Keith’s eyes seem darker, glinting in the yellow lights of the bookstore. He overall looks more saturated, his lips pinker, his ivory skin brighter, and his hair shinier. It’s long and curls at the place where his neck touches his shoulders. The collar of his shirt is low, so his shoulder shows, a strip of white in the darkness of his black T-shirt. 

“Lance?”

Lance’s focus snaps back to his friends. 

Hunk’s expression is searching. Pidge has a keen, piercing look on her face. 

Lance blushes. He glances nervously at Keith, who’s eyes are wandering over the shelves. Good, he didn’t notice. Hopefully. 

It’s not like there’s anything to hide, though. Just Lance looking at his handsome roomie and his friends being weird. This doesn’t mean he likes Keith. Keith’s just really hot, and Lance has a long history of admiring the beautiful aspects of life. 

Shay is suddenly there. For being so tall, you’d think she’d be easy to spot, but no. 

She hands them all their neatly arranged food. Hunk gazes her when she’s not gazing at him. In about a minute, they show as much love as other people do in a lifetime. 

Once Shay leaves, Lance asks, “When’s the wedding?”

Hunk’s already blushing, but he turns an even deeper shade of red.

While Pidge teases Hunk some more, Lance watches Keith, who looks like he’s contemplating the meaning of life. 

“Whatcha thinking about?” Lance says, nudging Keith’s (soft, warm) side. Keith looks at him with an almost-pout that exaggerates his lips. 

“I don’t know if I should be teasing Hunk.”

“You’re regretting it?” Lance’s smile is sympathetic, “It’s cool, man. Hunk’s chill. He won’t mind.” 

He puts his hand over Keith’s, immediately regretting the decision. He doesn’t pull away, though. He doesn't want to let go. Keith looks up at him, surprised. Their hands remain stacked on top of eachother.

The mochis melt in their mouths. Lance feels like he's just eaten a ton of sugar, there's energy in his veins. Keith's hand is warm and rough, and Lance has to pretend that he's thinking of anything else. Keith seems to relax and the conversation flows smoothly around Lance, who only contributes enough for it not to be weird. Lance is trying to eat and drink as slowly as possible, because Keith is smiling. Just a little, but it’ll widen when Pidge says something particularly funny or when Hunk tells an adorable story, which he has an abundance of. No one knows quite how he has so many, the working theory is that cute things are attracted to him. 

Keith is smiling, Hunk is laughing and Pidge is dropping fond but scathing remarks. It's nice. The smell of old books and yellow pages mixes with milk and tea and coffee, and there’s subtle hum of machinery and quiet voices. Lance squeezes Keith’s warm hands and lets himself drift a little. He’s not much of a reader, but he could get used to this place. 

Keith’s hand moves. 

Lance gasps sharply, like an idiot. Keith just laces their fingers together, and Lance looks down at their linked hands, feels the blooming warmth in his chest, and knows: He likes Keith.  _ Like- _ likes Keith.

The pit of his stomach drops and he flushes. 

Everyone’s eating, having a good time. Smiles all around.

He shoots up, mumbling, “I need to, uh, do something.”  _ Oh,  _ nice  _ going, there, Lance. No one will suspect.  _

The bookshelves create twisting paths and narrow spaces. Lance turns as many corners as he can. He slips in between two shelves, and collapses. 

He should have known. Every time he relaxes, life slaps him in the face. Never, ever stop moving, and you won’t get hurt. 

Lance doesn’t cry. But he worries. What do the others think? What does  _ Keith  _ think? How is Lance going to live with this-this  _ feeling _ for the rest of the year? Should he confess? He can’t, not any time soon-he has to live with the guy. 

Lance groans. He can’t believe that he ran away. He could have just pretended everything was fine, but no. 

He hears footsteps, and shrinks back. Suddenly, a tall, buxom employee is standing before him, hands on her hips. 

“Oh, hello,” she says. 

“Hey,” Lance says, and he hates how weird and pathetic he’s being. He hates how he must look in her eyes. He waits for her to leave.

She plops down, next to him. He gives her a look. Not what he expected. 

“This is a good place to sit, huh? Feels safe”

Lance nods (even though it’s not with this her here). What if during this conversation he makes a complete ass of himself?

Then, she looks at him. Her eyes are blue, like his, and they shine with a quiet strength. Her mouth curves up softly, and her cheeks are dotted with faint freckles. She tucks a strand of thick black hair behind her ear. Suddenly, he knows that this person would never hurt him. 

“So, what’s your trouble?” 

Lance doesn’t like that he looks troubled, “I met my roommate today. He’s not sucky or anything, in fact he’s funny and smart and nice. I-” he looks at her, and wonders if he should be telling her his disney-princess crush. As welcoming a she seems, what if she hates gay people, or tells everyone?

“You like him?” she finishes. Lance nods.

“And I just met him today too. Uh, please don’t tell anyone.”

Her smile is warm, “Don’t worry. I’ve kept secrets many times before.”

Lance manages a weak smile.

“You should tell him. Maybe not now, but you should.”

Lance winces, “I probably will. But we can’t roommates, after.”

“Why not?”

“Because it would be awkward!”

She looks at Lance and asks, “What if you’re together?”

Lance scoffs, “As if he’ll fall for me. I’m too loud and vain and useless.”

She frowns, “You don’t seem loud or vain, and no one is useless.”

“Well, I am! And you don’t know me. I’m never like this,” Lance gestures to himself, hands dropping with the last syllable. 

“...You have friends, right?”

“Yes…”

“They like you, right?”

“...”

“They like you. Is your roomie nice to you?”

“Yeah. We, uh, hung out before coming here.”

“In that case, he likes you. Maybe just as a friend, but he likes you. On that front, I can’t offer much hope. Heartbreak may be on the horizon. But at least give yourself a chance.”

“You want me to seduce him?”

She smirks, “You can try.”

Lance looks at his hands, “Do I look presentable?”

“More than presentable.”

Lance nods, and makes his way back through the shelves, feeling a mixture of determination and anxiety. 

He can see them, now. Hunk and Pidge are talking, and Keith is hunched in on himself. He stops at the edge of the table.

“Hey,” Lance says, and Hunk watches his face like he does when he knows something’s wrong. 

Lance gives his most blinding smile, “What did I miss?”

As his friends catch him up, Lance sneaks glances at Keith, whose gaze seems relentlessly  _ not  _ on Lance. Except when Lance talks, then he turns and listens. Lance starts to talk a lot, even for his own, annoyingly high standards.

“Hey, I’m gonna finish unpacking, so…” Hunk motions to the exit. 

“Okay.”

He and Pidge stand up. Shay stops them by the door, and while Keith and Lance can’t hear them, Hunk’s and Shay’s blushes are visible enough.

“I think that went well?” Keith makes it a question. Lance smiles and nods. 

“You want to go, or?”

Keith shrugs, hair bunching up, “Sure. But…”

Lance watches his eyes dart to the shelves and return, “Can we come back?”

“Hell yeah!” Lance says, thinking of Bookstore Lady. 

As they leave, Lance looks around for her, but doesn’t see her. He thinks of what she said, and looks at their hands, hanging side-by-side. 

Lance’s smile is broad and genuine, Keith’s hand is warm and sends sparks up Lance’s arm. Most importantly, neither of them let go. 


End file.
